Family
by FifiDoll
Summary: Kurt and his dad have an argument and things get way out of hand. Finn is there to witness it and little by little, tries to put their family back together. WARNING: CONTAINS ABUSE


**Warning: This fic contains abuse.**

**Family**

"I want you to apologize for being inappropriate and promise me you'll never do it again."

Kurt seethed at his father's words. He hadn't done anything wrong – he had been _responsible_ and now he was being punished for it. It wasn't fair and Kurt couldn't take it anymore. "So you would have rather I let him drive home, drunk out of his mind? Or left him on the couch for you guys to discover in the morning?" Kurt challenged.

"You watch your mouth, Kurt," Burt warned, shaking a finger at him.

He didn't understand – Kurt's mind was reeling at how unfair the whole situation was. "We didn't _do_ anything, dad! I don't even think he has feelings for me! And it's not like I'd have sex here anyway," he said matter-of-factly.

"You kids are drinking _and_ having sex now?" Burt exclaimed.

"No! Dad!" Kurt insisted. His mind was moving so fast he was saying all the wrong things. He knew what would make his dad tick, and he _shouldn't_ be saying those things. He just needed to make his point, so he desperately rambled, "_I'm_ not having sex, least of all with Blaine. We went to a party, he got drunk, and I brought him back here to sleep it off, _that's it._"

"Kurt," Burt growled, his face contorted in anger.

It was obvious that his father didn't believe him, and this bothered Kurt to no end. The frustration emanating from his father only fueled Kurt's fire. His own eyes glared back with a thousand daggers, determination in his eyes. Finn rounded the corner just in time to see the exchange, the glares making him freeze just in time to hear Kurt shout at his father, "Maybe you're not as okay with me being gay as you think you are! It's all just an act while you sit around watching sports games with Finn, the son you never had!"

"That isn't fair, Kurt," Burt shouted back. "I've told you it's not like that! I'm fine with you being gay – it's when you're being inappropriate in my house that I get concerned."

"You're mad because Blaine is a boy! If Mercedes had slept over you wouldn't have even batted an eye!"

"That's because I know you're not interested in girls, Kurt!" Burt shouted.

Angrily, Kurt accused, "I'm not interested in _every single guy_ I meet! What if Puckerman had been in my bed? Would you still be yelling at me for 'being inappropriate'?"

"Damn right I would!" Burt barked.

"Puckerman is straight!" Kurt shrieked.

His frustration was off the charts and his father's glare could kill. "I don't care what he is – you having a boy in your bed is inappropriate…"

"It grosses you out! That's all this is about!" Kurt interrupted.

"You do _not_ make accusations like that," Burt said, his voice menacingly soft, his finger once again in Kurt's face.

They still stood across the kitchen island from each other. Sighing, Burt made his way towards the living room. Finn stood in the doorway to the kitchen, unnoticed and terrified. He held his breath, hoping the argument was over. When Kurt opened his mouth to speak, though, Finn winced and hid, not quite sure he wanted to witness what was about to happen. "You are just as homophobic as those neanderthal jocks that made me leave McKinley!" Kurt said, his voice high as he shrieked out his frustrations. His father spun around as Kurt finished, "You think every gay guy wants to fuck every guy he sees and _that's not true_!"

Finn's eyes widened at Kurt's language, ready to hear the reaming of the century from Burt. Instead he heard a sickening slap, followed by a heavy thud. His heart was pounding in his chest as he peeked around the doorframe to find the most frightening sight he'd seen in a while. Kurt lay in a heap on the floor, clutching his face, tears stinging at his eyes. Burt looked absolutely terrified as he stood, staring at his hands, as if he couldn't believe he'd just _hit his son_. "Kurt…" Burt trailed off.

His eyes were filled with sadness but Kurt just slid away along the floor as his father stepped closer. "Kurt…I…" he tried again.

Before Burt could say another word, Kurt was getting up off the floor, his Doc Martens clunking awkwardly as he sprinted up to his room. Finn saw tears on his face as he ran by, his presence masked by Kurt's swell of emotions.

He took the stairs two at a time, only stopping when he was safe inside his room. He leaned against the door, sobbing. His father had never hit him before – he never thought his dad ever _would_. He wasn't stupid; he knew he pushed his dad too far. Kurt _never_ cursed, especially in front of his father. The boy felt guilty, but he still hated his father for what he had done. Kurt had been out of line, but he shouldn't have been hit. Not just hit, but hit so hard he fell to the floor. It took a lot of force to do something like that, and it had hurt like hell. His face still stung.

Shaking fingers touched his left cheek gingerly, the beginnings of a bruise forming. He silently thanked Gaga he'd bought more concealer after the Karofsky incident – he had to hide the awful bruises from the boy's huge hands. He'd worry about the bruise later, though – for now he just needed to cry.

The fear he felt at school was _nothing_ compared to this; he never thought he'd have to feel scared in his own home. It was the worst feeling in the world – he didn't want to leave his room. The thought of facing his father again made his stomach churn. He slid slowly along the door, only stopping when he was in a heap on the floor, his arms wrapped around his legs, clinging to them like they were his life.

When he felt a soft knock at his door, Kurt jumped and slid away, all the way across the room. He curled up next to his bed, hoping to Gaga his father wasn't back for seconds. Instead he saw a timid Finn Hudson poking his head around the door. He looked absolutely shell-shocked. Kurt's stomach dropped as he realized that Finn _had seen_. A new wave of tears hit and he leaned against his bed, hoping for some sort of comfort in this mess. "Hey…" Finn trailed off awkwardly.

He stepped inside the room slowly, gauging each movement of his by Kurt's reactions. Slowly he crept inside, closing the door behind him. Kurt didn't move, he just stayed curled up in a ball. Slowly, hesitantly, Finn sat down next to his step-brother. When Finn reached out for Kurt, the smaller boy voluntarily flinched. "Woah there…" Finn whispered softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Kurt sniffled. Finn spotted a box of tissues on the bedside table and grabbed for them. He offered them to the sobbing boy who took the box greedily. Finn watched as Kurt desperately tried to hide the fact that he had been crying so much. His left cheek was redder than the rest of his face; Finn realized that's where he'd been hit. Kurt tried to keep it together but his tears kept coming. "You can cry," Finn said quietly. "It's okay."

Kurt looked over at Finn, still avoiding his eyes. His watery eyes spotted something in Finn's hand. "What's that?" he asked quietly.

"Oh," Finn held the squishy blue bag out to him awkwardly. "I thought you might want to put some ice on that."

His eyes lingered on Kurt's cheek and the boy shrunk, self-conscious. "Thanks," Kurt whispered, taking it with shaking hands and placing it against his cheek.

The coolness of the ice pack did wonders for the stinging, slowly taking the edge off. Finn didn't speak, he just watched as Kurt tried to regain his composure. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he choked out, wiping a stray tear off his face.

Every time Kurt thought back to the memory, a new wave of tears hit. He still couldn't believe that _his father had hit him_. The one person he could trust in his life, no matter what, had hurt him. He had never felt so alone. "Don't worry about it," Finn said, trying to wave it off as nothing.

He knew it was more than that though. Kurt and his dad were like, this inseparable team that never let anything wreck their relationship. This was going to break them and the last thing Finn or Kurt or any of them needed was for their new family to be completely ruined. Kurt's tears kept falling and Finn awkwardly reached out. Kurt flinched but when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, he relaxed.

It was like a dam breaking; Kurt's tears double and he clung to Finn, practically climbing into his lap for contact. His fingers wrapped into Finn's shirt, the ice pack sliding away, forgotten. Finn was a little taken aback by Kurt's response, but he didn't pull back. They were brothers now, and brothers had to stick together through the good _and_ the bad. He repositioned them so Kurt was perched on his lap, snuggled close to him. Finn didn't even feel awkward. If anything, he felt proud. He was better at being a brother to Kurt than he thought he would be.

Finn patted and rubbed Kurt's back, letting the boy cry into his shoulder. "It's going to be okay," Finn whispered to him.

"He hit me, Finn," Kurt said, wondering whether or not Finn had actually seen. "My dad h-h-hit me." He hiccupped through his words.

"He didn't mean it," Finn told him, unsure of the truth in his words.

His face was buried so deep in Finn's shoulder it almost hurt. Kurt's wails were muffled as he argued, "Of course he meant it! You don't just hit people for the hell of it!"

"You were both angry. People don't think right when they're mad," he told Kurt. "I've been there, I just usually take it out on chairs…"

Kurt let out a little laugh, thinking back to all the times Finn had kicked (and sometimes) broken chairs out of frustration in the years that he'd known him. More than one time came to mind, the day he found out about Puck being the baby daddy the most vivid. "He feels awful," Finn continued. "I could see it on his face. I've never seen him look so upset."

"I don't want to go near him," Kurt said firmly. "What if he does it again?"

"He won't."

Kurt sniffled, reaching out for another tissue, the box just out of his reach. Finn handed one to him and just sat there, his arms wrapped protectively around his brother. His tears were subsiding, so that was a good sign. "Finn?" a shout came from downstairs.

It was his mom; she was home early from her shopping trip. "I should go see what she…" he trailed off awkwardly.

Kurt clambered off of Finn's lap, cursing himself for being so lanky. He curled up on the floor again and Finn stood. Just as he did, she knocked on Kurt's door. Finn crept out of the room slowly, leaving Kurt to a new wave of emotion in his room. He wanted to stay behind, but his mom looked really worried. It sucked being the strong one. "Honey, where's Burt?" she asked.

Finn looked distressed and replied, "He's not downstairs?"

"He called me and I couldn't really understand what he was saying. Finn, what's going on?"

Sighing, Finn led her downstairs and into the living room. She watched him with worried eyes. "He and Kurt got in an argument this afternoon," he explained, sitting on the couch. She followed suit, her eyes watching his every move. He didn't think it was his story to tell, but nobody else was going to fill her in and she deserved to know. "It got bad. Like, _really_ bad. Kurt was yelling and cursing and Burt kind of blew up and…" he trailed off. He didn't want to say it. Saying it made it real, and he couldn't do it.

"What did he do, sweetheart?" Carole asked, petting his arm.

He liked when his mom did that; it made him relax. That was probably why she was doing it. Sighing, he said, "He uh…he hit Kurt."

He avoided his mom's eyes, not ready to see the expression on her face. She looked terrified and worried and a million other things. "Are you sure?" she sputtered.

Her eyes were focused on some unidentifiable spot and she looked ready to cry. "I was there when it happened," Finn nodded. His voice was cracking; there was no way that he was going to cry. He hadn't cried since the whole mess with Quinn. "Kurt's so scared, mom, but Burt…he looked so sorry. I…it was bad mom."

Carole reached out for Finn, pulling him into a hug. "Sweetie, it will be okay," she told him.

They hugged for a moment, before Finn backed away, realization crossing his features. "I thought I heard the garage door earlier. Maybe he went for a drive?" he suggested.

Carole nodded, one lone tear streaking down her face. Finn looked confused and wasn't quite sure what to do. "Honey, is there anywhere you guys want to go hang out tonight? Maybe it would be better if I talked to Burt alone," she frowned.

"I can call Puck or something," Finn said lamely.

He couldn't really think of somewhere that they could go. They didn't exactly have the same social group, especially now that Kurt went to Dalton. "Okay," she petted his cheek adoringly. "Just let me know where you guys are going."

Finn knew Burt would never hurt anyone, especially his mom, but the thought still worried him. What if he and Kurt left and something like that happened to his mom? It didn't seem likely given how guilty Burt looked but Finn couldn't push the thought from his mind. He ascended the stairs, texting as he did so. By the time he reached Kurt's door, he'd secured a place for them to stay the night. He softly knocked on Kurt's door. This time, the boy answered. "Hey," he said quietly.

His face was flushed from crying and his left cheek was beet red. Finn hoped that was just from the ice pack, but he wasn't positive. "Pack a bag," Finn said, a small smile on his face. He needed to cheer Kurt up, and fast. "We're going out for the night."

"I don't want to," Kurt said flatly, walking over to his bed.

He curled up in his blankets with his back to Finn. "If you don't pack an overnight bag, I will, and you know I'll mess that up," Finn teased.

He was smirking. It felt so inappropriate for the situation, but at the same time it didn't. Finn was trying to cheer his brother up – what was wrong with that? "I don't even know where we're going," Kurt pouted.

"Fine, I'll pack a bag for you," Finn shrugged simply.

He walked further into Kurt's room, looking proud of himself as he began digging around Kurt's closet. Watery blue eyes watched curiously as Finn pulled out an overnight bag and stuffed it with things Kurt would _never_ wear anywhere but at home. Kurt couldn't quite explain why he was letting Finn dig around his room. It felt nice to be cared about, especially given how alone he felt. The one person he trusted more than anyone else had hurt him – his brain was rather disoriented. His face still hurt and his heart was broken at the thought of his father hating him so much he'd hit him.

When Finn was tugging at Kurt's arm, he was snapped out of his thoughts. "Come on," Finn said, dragging Kurt out of the room.

"My sweater…" Kurt said, struggling out of Finn's grip.

They stopped in Finn's room across the hall just long enough for Finn to toss some sweats into his backpack. He clambered down the stairs, Kurt following slowly behind him. The small boy hid on the stairs, worried eyes searching around the main floor. "He's not here right now," Finn told him, noticing Kurt's hesitation.

Kurt frowned and stepped off the staircase. Carole came around the corner and almost burst into tears at the sight of him. Kurt's stomach twisted into knots and a whole new mess of tears threatened to fall. The fight with his dad was hurting more than just him – Carole and Finn were obviously upset too. It was all Kurt's fault that their new little family was having problems. If he would have just kept his mouth shut, everything would have been fine. She pulled him into a hug and touched his cheek gingerly. Kurt winced at the touch and something flashed through her eyes. "We'll be back for lunch tomorrow, okay mom?" Finn asked.

She let Kurt pass to the doorway where Finn stood impatiently. "Okay," she nodded. "I'll see you boys tomorrow."

Kurt waved sadly at Carole before following Finn out the door and into his Navigator. Wordlessly he held out his keys to Finn; he didn't feel like driving and he trusted Finn enough. The boy had been driving the car his mom got him for over six months now and hadn't crashed it. Finn looked shocked, but took the keys. "Are you sure?" he asked, climbing into the driver's seat.

Nodding, Kurt sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window sadly. "Everything's going to be okay, Kurt," Finn told him.

When Kurt didn't respond, he put the key in the ignition and started the engine. They drove through town; Kurt didn't even know where they were going, but given all the events of the night, things couldn't really get any worse. His face ached and he just wanted to cry, but Finn seemed so insistent on being a good brother Kurt didn't have the heart to argue.

They pulled up outside of an unfamiliar house. Kurt grabbed his bag and followed Finn who was walking up the drive like he'd been there a thousand times. Apparently he had, because he walked right through the front door without even bothering to knock. Kurt followed hesitantly. He didn't know where they were, he wasn't just going to make himself at home.

"I'm up here!" a familiar voice shouted.

Kurt shook his head, his eyes wide. "No," he told Finn firmly. "I am not hanging out with Puckerman."

"Just…give him a chance," Finn said. "You needed to get out of the house and his mom and sister are gone. You can go right to bed if you want."

"I'm _not_ sleeping in his bed," Kurt said stubbornly.

Finn just shrugged and said, "There are other beds."

Kurt made a face, but Finn was sending him a pathetic puppy dog look and Kurt couldn't argue. He just wanted to sleep though, so he'd be sure to ask for a bed to sleep in. They went upstairs and walked towards the room on the left. Familiar gunshot sounds could be heard from the room – _of course_ he was playing video games. Kurt rolled his eyes and followed Finn into the room.

Finn walked in and sat down on the bed where Puck was currently lounging, making himself at home like they'd done this a thousand times. Puck finished his…level or whatever it was (Kurt had no clue) before pausing the game and actually acknowledging their presence. He visibly winced when he looked up at Kurt and asked seriously, "What the fuck happened to you?"

Swallowing back tears, Kurt stood proudly and said, "I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Puck looked to Finn, but he wasn't going to tell, especially with Kurt in the room. "Wanna kill shit?" Puck offered, holding up a controller. "I promise it will make you feel better. It always works for me."

Kurt just looked at the mohawked boy, surprised he'd asked. What was even more surprising was that he actually seemed to _care_. What had dating Lauren done to him? "I've never played video games," Kurt said, hoping it was enough of an excuse to not play.

"We'll teach you," Puck said, holding a controller out to Kurt. The boy took it cautiously. "We'll set it on easy and I promise we won't totally annihilate you."

Finn was already holding a controller, watching Kurt closely. He looked between the two boys on the bed and how easily they were accepting him into their hang-out. "I…I guess I could for a while…" he trailed off.

Kurt perched himself on the end of the bed, looking down at the controller with intrigue. Finn leaned up and looked over his shoulder. "You hit this one to shoot," he pointed at buttons as he explained them, "And if you want to look around, use this one. This button makes you run and this button switches out guns. Hit this if you want to change your ammo and then these if you want to look up or down."

Incredulous eyes tried to take in everything Finn was telling him. "Got it?" Puck asked, resetting the game from the main menu.

Kurt gave a nervous laugh and admitted, "No, but I guess I'll figure it out."

"You pretty much just find us and try to kill us first," Puck said. "Figure out how to run and shoot and you'll be fine."

Kurt nodded, not quite sure if he'd even be able to figure _that_ out. The game got going, and while he was dying more in the game than Puck and Finn combined, he was having fun. Every time he'd kill Finn Puck would give him a high five, and every time he'd kill Puck he'd hear an amazed, "how the hell did you do that!" from Finn. What amazed him the most, though, was that he was _actually enjoying himself_. Like, he was laughing and everything, and Puck and Finn were laughing _with _him, not _at _him. Puck had been right – it made him feel a little better, being able to take out his aggression, and it felt like his frustration and sadness was flowing away with each slam of his fingers on the buttons. Who knew video games would actually be good for something?

Across town, Burt was pulling his truck into the garage, worried at the absence of Kurt's Navigator in the driveway. His heart sank at the thought of his son running away – everything had gotten out of hand so quickly. Instincts had kicked in and before he even had a chance to think, Burt had struck his son. His gut wrenched when he replayed the scene in his head – the sickening slap and the heavy thud of Kurt on the linoleum floor broke his heart. He'd never felt so terrible in his life.

And Kurt's face – he looked so _betrayed_. It shook Burt to his core. He thought back to how Kurt had fearfully rushed away from him and how upset he looked – hell, the boy wouldn't look any better in a few days when the bruise formed. Burt felt a stinging of tears in his eyes _again_. Slowly he walked into the house. He was greeted with the sight of his wife setting out some leftover pasta from the day before, just enough for the two of them. "Carole…" he trailed off.

She turned to face her husband and her heart ached for him. He looked _terrible_. Guilt plagued his features and his eyes were glassy and watery. Her own eyes filled with tears as she pulled him into a hug. "Burt…honey," she said, her face in his chest.

He patted her back softer than usual – it was like he didn't trust his own strength anymore. She couldn't blame him, but the way it looked like he was beating himself up worried her. "Let's have dinner, huh?" she suggested with a nervous smile.

Burt nodded and sat down at the table. He picked at his food while she ate slowly, watching him with a nervous gaze. "I take it you heard about this afternoon," he said gruffly.

"Yeah. Finn told me," she said softly.

"He saw, didn't he?" Burt asked, looking up at her sadly.

Carole just nodded, fighting tears. She wasn't scared of her husband – she knew he was a wonderful, loving man who would never _ever_ think of hurting anyone. Sometimes people lost control and she understood that. Now she just needed to make him see that same thing. "They're fine, Burt," she reassured him, reaching over to take his hand in hers. "Finn and Kurt are over at Puck's for the night."

"I chased my own son out of the house," Burt said, his face contorting in sadness.

A lone tear fell down his face. "Burt, honey, it was my idea," she said softly. "Kurt would have stayed holed up in his room forever. He just needed to get out and cool off. They'll be back for lunch tomorrow and you can talk to him then."

Burt sighed and nodded. "I feel awful, Carole," he shook his head and looked down, too ashamed to meet her eyes. "I've never…you know I'd never…"

"I know," she told him, squeezing his hand. "I know that, and Finn knows that, and deep down Kurt knows it, too."

He was really beating himself up over everything, and it was breaking her heart. "You both just need time to think," she told him softly. "We're going to get through this. You and Kurt have too strong of a relationship to let something like this break it."

"I've never hit anyone in my life," Burt said desperately. His voice was cracking. "Kurt – he's so stubborn sometimes. I was angry about Blaine sleeping over and things just got out of control."

Carole looked at her husband sadly and willed him to look at her. When his eyes finally looked up to meet hers, they were filled with sadness. "You two just need to talk tomorrow," she told him, putting on a courageous smile. "Everything is going to be okay. You and Kurt love each other. One bad fight isn't going to ruin that. _Everybody_ fights."

"Not like this, they don't," Burt shook his head.

"Have faith," Carole said softly. "It's all going to be okay."

After dinner Burt went down the hall to shower while Carole cleaned up the dishes. They went to bed early, sleep evading both of them for hours.

Across town Kurt, Finn, and Puck were awake well past midnight, the only change from when they arrived being that they were all in sweatpants. Kurt had caught on to the game quick, and now he and Finn were tag-teaming against Puck. He had caught on and was running around the map in random patterns, but Finn and Kurt managed to corner him anyway. "You fuckers!" Puck kept shouting, shaking the controller in his hands he was hitting the 'shoot' button so hard.

Kurt laughed out loud at Puck as he shot him down, his avatar a bloody mess on the ground. That had been their 25th time killing Puck, meaning the round was over. He and Finn high fived before tossing their controllers down on the bed. Kurt stretched his hands and Finn flung himself back on Puck's bed. "That was not cool, you guys," Puck said, getting up to turn off his xbox.

Kurt just laughed and said, "You're just angry that you lost."

"Puckzilla never loses," he insisted, turning around to face the brothers now yawning on his bed.

Kurt's bruise looked terrible and Puck wanted to know what had happened (and if he needed to run out and kick someone's ass) but he didn't want to push it. "You did tonight," Kurt smirked.

"'m tired," Finn yawned again.

"We usually sleep here," Puck said to Kurt. "You can sleep down the hall in my sister's room if you want, or I can if you'd rather stay in here with Finn or something."

"I'm fine with your sister's room," Kurt shrugged.

"'night Kurt," Finn said.

Kurt yawned, stifling his response of, "Goodnight guys."

He left and walked down the hall into the rather tame room. Considering Puck's sister was a young girl, he expected waves of pink, but instead met with a room clad in blue. Kurt tossed himself onto the bed, content with the end to his night. He'd actually had fun playing video games, with Noah Puckerman of all people. Kurt curled up under the blankets, a small smile on his face, until he shifted and his bruised face grazed his hand too roughly. He winced at the pain and rolled over. Memories flooded back to him but he tried to forget about them, the horrible sinking feeling returning anyway. Sighing, Kurt closed his eyes and willed himself to forget.

Back in Puck's room, Finn and Puck were curled up under the blankets like always. They'd never actually admit to anyone that they'd been sharing a bed during their "sleepovers" since middle school – everyone would just assume they were gay. It was the only place to sleep though, so they just kept it their little secret. It's not like they _did stuff_ or anything. "Finn?" Puck whispered.

"Yeah?" Finn whispered back.

"What happened to Kurt's face?"

Finn sighed; he knew it was coming – Puck wouldn't let something like that go, especially when he'd offered to practically become Kurt's bodyguard. "He and his dad got in an argument about Blaine sleeping over and things got kind of out of control," Finn said hesitantly.

He was paranoid that Kurt would hear him telling the story – the last thing he wanted was to upset Kurt now that he was finally doing a little better. "Out of control how?" Puck asked slowly.

"Well…" Finn trailed off awkwardly. "Kurt kind of freaked out and called his dad homophobic and cursed at him and so his dad kind of…well…hit him."

Puck didn't say anything. He'd only met Burt Hummel in passing at the wedding, and he seemed like a pretty nice guy. Not to mention he was always sticking his neck out for Kurt. He was an awesome dad and Puck had actually thought more than once that he was jealous of the kid. "He'd never do that," Puck said in disbelief.

"He did."

Puck just sighed and said, "Shit."

"Yeah. Mom said she was going to talk to Burt tonight," Finn explained quietly. "She texted me earlier and said that he felt really bad. I don't think he meant to – he just got really mad."

Puck snapped and said, "That's no excuse."

Finn was surprised by his friend's sudden change in attitude, but didn't say anything about it. Instead they just fell asleep, the awkward silence dissipating as they lost consciousness.

Morning came much too soon and Kurt found himself dreading the moment he got back home. He didn't know how his dad would react, not to mention he hadn't had time to cover the bruise yet. It was large and spanned his whole cheekbone from just next to his nose, trailing up past his eye and disappearing underneath his hair. Looking in the mirror had been an unpleasant surprise for him when he woke, and he wasn't sure how his dad or Carole would react. Especially since Puck and Finn were both shocked at how bad it was. It was a light shade of purple and hurt like hell. "It's gonna get worse before it gets better," Puck told him. "It's gonna get dark and then all gross and green."

He'd insisted that that's why he owned makeup. Puck made them Eggos for breakfast (they were apparently his favorite) and when they left, Kurt thanked him for letting him stay there. Puck waved it off like it was nothing and said he could come back whenever he wanted to. Kurt's brain was a mess of worry and confusion. Dread spread through his body when they pulled up outside their house. "It's gonna be okay," Finn told him for the hundredth time since they had left Puck's. "You guys just need to talk through this. Calmly."

Kurt was getting annoyed with Finn's emphasis on the 'calmly.' He would stay calm if his father would hear him out. They walked in slowly to find Carole in the kitchen. "Hey boys," she smiled at them. Her eyes lingered on Kurt's bruise but her happiness never faded. "I'm just starting lunch – it should be done in a few minutes."

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Finn nodded.

He looked optimistic – his mom had been cheerful when they got home, which had to mean _something_, right? Kurt wandered down the hall, hoping to make it up to his room before his dad saw the bruise. He couldn't be so lucky, though, because that moment was when his father emerged from his room, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. He froze when he saw Kurt standing meekly in the hallway. "Kurt…" he trailed off.

The shadows covered the bruise well enough, but they'd have to talk and no doubt that would take place in a lit room. Kurt's stomach churned and he wanted to run and hide. The remorse and guilt in his father's eyes was too much for him though. "Hi dad," he said quietly.

He crossed his arms, clinging to himself. His blue eyes lingered on the floor, unwilling to meet his father's. "We should talk," Burt said gruffly.

Kurt just nodded, looking down the whole time. He followed his dad down the hall and into the living room. Once there, he looked up slowly, the inevitable finally occurring. His dad's eyes focused on the bruise, purple and swollen, and Kurt felt the most vulnerable and self-conscious he'd ever felt.

Burt gulped and looked at his son sadly. The huge bruise was because of _him_. It almost made him sick to his stomach. "I'm so sorry," he choked out.

His eyes were wet and sad. Kurt looked up at his father, tears filling his own eyes. "I shouldn't have said those things," Kurt told him softly.

"I should _never_ have hit you, ever," Burt told him firmly. "I'll admit you were out of line with your accusations, but I shouldn't have done that."

Kurt just watched his dad, a lone tear sliding down his cheek. It burned against the sensitive, colored skin. "I'll never do it again, son," Burt said seriously. "I want you to know that. I don't know where it came from."

"I know," Kurt gasped, tears starting to fall.

He nodded and shook a few tears to the ground. "Kurt…I feel awful," his dad shook his head. "I love you and I never want to see you hurt. Especially by me. I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Kurt nodded.

He stepped nearer to his father, the fear replaced by sadness. It was obvious that his father felt absolutely terrible. A rough, grease stained hand reached up to gingerly touch the bruise. "They'll probably ask about this at school, huh?" he asked.

There was a hint of fear in his voice when he asked that. Kurt shrugged and said, "I have makeup to cover it up."

Burt looked down at his son sadly. It killed him inside that he'd been the cause of such a horrible bruise. What killed him more, though, was the fact that Kurt _already_ owned makeup to cover things like that. He knew Kurt well enough to know that while he was gay and cared about his skin, he didn't wear makeup, at least on a daily basis. Even though he'd apologized, Burt still felt awful. "I forgive you, dad," Kurt said softly, wrapping his arms around his dad's waist.

Burt wrapped his arms around his son gently, hugging him close. "I love you, Kurt," he told him. "I promise I'll never, _ever_ hurt you again."

"I know you won't," Kurt mumbled, his voice muffled by his father's shirt.

They stood there for a minute before Kurt pulled away. "I should go get dressed," he said, looking down at his dismal attire: sweatpants and a tee shirt. It was like he became Finn for a night.

Burt nodded and watched his son walk up the stairs slowly. Carole poked her head around the corner. "How did it go?" she asked.

He still looked sad, but there was something else in his eyes. Burt sighed and said with a relieved smile, "I think we'll be okay."

Carole hugged him and said, "I told you it would all work out."

"He still looked scared," Burt told her sadly.

She patted his back and said, "It'll take time."

He readjusted his hat on his head and nodded, following her towards the kitchen. "Need help with anything for lunch?" he asked.

"I think we're just about ready to eat," she said, motioning to the table.

A plate of grilled cheese and a pan of grilled cheese sat out on the table with dishes and glasses of milk. "You're amazing," he told her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She smiled happily as Finn walked into the room. His hair was disheveled and obviously just towel dried. He took his seat at the table eagerly. "You can wait for Kurt, honey," Carole told him.

"Just a minute!" he called from upstairs.

Finn looked surprised at how Kurt had heard that. Burt took a seat at the table as well. Carole wiped off the countertops with a rag before sitting down. They heard a clambering from the stairs and Kurt appeared moments later. They all looked up in amazement at him. He looked just like he did before the bruise – there wasn't a single trace of it on his face. Finn looked confused as Kurt sat down, but they all ignored it.

They served up lunch (well, Finn dug in while everyone else waited patiently for him to take almost half the food on the table) and things seemed back to normal. The glances between Kurt and Burt were more awkward than usual, but things would get better eventually. Like Carole said, they would work through it all eventually. Burt and his son had a strong relationship and they would be back to normal in no time. In the meantime, she and Finn just had to be strong for them.

It sounded like a daunting task, but really, neither of them minded much. They had a family now, and a family they would remain.


End file.
